Never look back
by stalkerninja95
Summary: I'm going to write from multiple view points. There's Sarah who's been physically and mentally abused. Then there's Frank who's been hardened by those he has lost. Another viewpoint I'll write from is Nena. She'll be someone who doesn't take shit from anyone and still has people worth fighting for. All the characters I write about will meet and have to work together to survive.
1. Bandits

The ground is coated with snow and there are several ice covered trees that wave wildly in the wind. They surround Sarah as she stalks the doe. Her bright blue eyes follow the deer's movement and her slim figure easily moves along the unfamiliar path. One more shot and the deer should be dead. Sarah swears under her breath when her black hair is whipped into her face. She grabs a rubber band off her wrist and pulls her medium length hair into a bun with her bangs hanging free. She follows the tracks in the snow with her rifle at the ready. She feels confident and capable. Her breathing is steady and her eyes are constantly scanning the woods in front of her.

Sarah's confidence dies down when she hears a ringing that seems fill the otherwise silent woods. It echoes off of the trees and she immediately recognizes it as that of a bullet being shot from a gun. Her eyes grow wide and she stops in her tracks. Her instant reaction is to run away. Other people meant trouble. It was a lesson she had learned time and again. Sarah swallows when she feels a sharp metal blade pressed up against her throat. Whimpers escape her chapped lips.

She closes her eyes. Memories of her father work their way up to the forefront of her mind. He had dominated her the same way this person was. She struggles against them. Whoever it was shoves the blade harder against her throat just like her father would have. She pulls against their thick forearm. It was definitely a man. The more she struggles the harder the blade is shoved into her skin. There's a thin stream of blood that trickles down Sarah's neck.

The man has a deep belly laugh. His hot breath hits the side of Sarah's face. She struggles to separate the present from the past, but her father's sneering face haunts her. She goes still just like she did when her father was this way. Maybe this man would do what he wanted and then let her go. She removes that thought from her head. That type of thinking meant she was giving up and there was no way in hell she was going to do what her old man wanted her to.

The world around Sarah seems to disappear. It's replaced with a dingy apartment and her father's underwear clad fat figure. He sips water from his canteen making Sarah lick her lips. It had been ages since she had, had real food let alone even a drop of water. Her tummy grumbles as her anorexia figure stands in the doorway.

Her father notices and gives her a sneer. "It isn't polite to stare." He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Hasn't that slut of a mother taught you shit?" He laughs, "Of course not she's too busy fucking anything that moves."

He pauses as he looks Sarah over, "How old are you? 13?"

Sarah's voice is soft and wary, "I'm 6 Daddy."

"Close enough," Sarah's father states.

Sarah tilts her head at him, "You're 7 years off."

Her father yells at her being set off for no apparent reason, "You fucking bastard of a child! How dare you talk back to me! Go to your room!"

Sarah looks at him shocked, "I wasn't…"

He gets up off of the sofa and makes his way across the room to Sarah. He raises his hand, but stops just inches from Sarah's face. She instinctively cowers away in fear. Then like a flash of lighting he punches Sarah in the stomach. "Get to your fucking room or I'll show you what pain really is!"

Sarah struggles to come back to the present but every time she does the images come back and effectively draw her in. While Sarah struggles internally her rifle is forcibly taken away by the man, her eyes dart back and forth seeing things that aren't there. Small cries escape her dry throat as images of her father's gleaming knife come to the forefront of her mind overriding all her senses. You'd think that after all these years she'd be able to overcome and move forward, but then people like the man behind her showed up and plunged her head first into the past. The man pats Sarah down and confiscates her hunting knife from where it's holstered to her jeans. He also takes away the ammo for her rifle. Sarah's eyes are glazed as she relives old, painful memories.

The man roughly shoves her forward, "We've got a long walk ahead of us. Get moving."

Sarah's still not all there. The man shoves her forward again. She comes back to her sense and goes to reach for her knife only to find it missing. She curses when she realizes what's happened. How was it, that even now her father had so much control over her? The man shoves her harder. Seeing no other way she complies. The cold winter air rushes by her flushed cheeks making her shiver. The man holds his knife pointed threateningly towards Sarah and every time she doesn't move as fast as he would like the blade pushes deeper into her sensitive back. Sarah and the man make it about half a mile before they encounter another man.

"Jerry," the man holding Sarah at knife point greets the other man.

The man being greeted wipes his bloody hands off in the snow. His hair is dark brown and has ice crystals in it. Sarah watches as he gets up and reveals the deer she had been tracking earlier. The man steps towards Sarah making her take a step back. She feels a jab when the knife pushes into her spine. Sarah feels trapped when the brown haired man only leaves two feet between them. He strokes her face and Sarah clenches her jaw.

"Aren't you a beauty?" The man says it like she's an animal and not a fellow human. He looks up towards the other man, "Where'd you find her?"

"About a half mile back. I think she might have been tracking that deer there." The first man explains.

"Is this true darling?" the brown haired man asks.

Sarah stares at him defiantly. "No I wasn't. You can have her and if that's all I'll be on my way." Sarah goes to move away only to have the knife shoved even further into back.

"That won't be necessary." The man smiles menacingly down at her.

Sarah's voice is broken and soft like a child's, "Whatever you're going to do… just make it quick."

"Who said we were going to do anything?" the man asks innocently.

"If you're not going to rape me, kill me, or torture me then why won't you let me the fuck go?!" Sarah exclaims exasperated.

"Wow those are some pretty grim choices. Don't you think?" the man cocks an eyebrow at her.

Sarah stares at the man questioningly, "Then what do you want?"

"To take you back to our camp, we have food, supplies, women and children," the man answers.

Sarah fights against the man only to have a gun shoved in her face by the brown haired man. Her eyes grow wide as she cries out, "I don't want to go. Let me go!"

The man smiles sweetly at her, "I'm afraid you have no choice."

Sarah stops struggling those were the same words her father used before h-before he raped her. If she struggled she always came out with worse wounds than if she just gave in to his wishes. Sarah gets sucked back into the past. As always her father's sneering face takes center stage as he does some undesirable act to either her, her siblings, or her mother. The man says something to her she doesn't hear.

"Are you stupid or something? I said to get your ass moving," the man shouts.

Sarah looks up. She notices the brown haired man holding the small deer on his shoulders. The doe's guts are spilled across the snowy ground mixing crimson with the bright white. She takes a step forward as the first man leads her by knife point through the usually calming woods. Why was it that situations like this always found her?

Hours go by and it seems like they're going nowhere. They just pass tree after snow covered tree. Then Sarah sees it. At first it's just a building but as they move closer to it she realizes it's a prison. It's fully equipped with watch towers and armed sentries. Sarah gulps. Any plan she had of escaping in the middle of the night has just been eliminated. The man ushers her closer to the chain-link surrounding the prison. The gate swings inwards and just as soon as they get inside a woman puts a lock back on it.

Sarah is forced to stand in front of another gate and wait for it to open. It creaks as it swings inwards. Sarah continues forward feeling hopeless. The further in Sarah got escape seemed more and more improbable. Maybe her father was right and she deserved this in some messed up way. She clenches her jaw. That wasn't possible she had done nothing that made her deserving of this. Images of those she'd killed pass through her mind disagreeing with her. Sarah hadn't meant to kill some of them. It had just… happened. Once her father's sneering face came into her mind it made impossible for her think properly. She either fought in a blind rage or remained motionless.

Sarah's brought back to the present when snow falls on her already freezing face. She makes her way across the prison yard. Before too long she reaches a door that opens immediately. _How many people were there in this gloomy place?_ Sarah walks in. She glances around her. There was nothing but cells and more cells. The man with the knife shoves it into her back.

"Keep moving." He demands.

Sarah obeys and makes her way through the cell block into a hallway and then into another cell block. There's a stark difference between the cell block she had been in before and the one she was in now. For one thing the other cell block had been completely barren but the one she was in now had lifeless corpses hanging from the ceiling. The corpses were a mixture of deer, moose, and human carcasses. The one thing they all had in common was the large meat hooks forced through their meaty torsos. Small puddles of dried blood had long ago formed on the ground below them.

Sarah's forced forward. She can feel prying eyes on her as she is lead to a cell and past the dead bodies. She feels numb and isn't quite there. She never really was these days. Her father had, had a much more lasting effect on her then she would have liked to admit. When the present comes into focus the cell door is being shut in her face. She was done with what little bit of reality she managed to focus on. She was ready to bite the dust and meet her end. Maybe these people would be merciful and make her demise as quick and painless as possible. Sarah laughs weakly. It wasn't likely. These people probably had more twisted plans for her. She glances up at the gruesome hanging bodies. Was that the fate that awaited her?


	2. Stockholm Syndrome

Frank's green eyes scan the eerie hallway. It was dark and only thin slivers of moonlight shone through the dirty windows. It made it nearly impossible to tell if there were guards lurking in the shadows or not. Frank pushes away the feeling that he was being watched. He was going to make it out this time. He just knew he would. He stops dead in his tracks when a little boy darts in front of him and takes off down the hallway. It was Frank's son Yosef. Frank shakes his head and runs a hand across his face. It wasn't real. It couldn't be. Yosef had been dead for 5 years. Frank forces himself to keep walking. Now was not the time for a mental breakdown. He needed to get out and away from the disturbing place. The longer he stayed, the more he lost himself.

He takes the corner quickly without properly checking first. He mutters a colorful array of language when a guard spots him. Frank lunges at the guard and wraps his large hands around the man's neck, but not before the he yells loudly. The man struggles against Frank's firm grip before his body grows limp. Frank feels like there are eyes on him. He turns letting the guards body fall with a thud to the floor. Standing in the middle of the room is the ghost of his son Yosef whose eyes are wide and disbelieving. Frank goes to reach out and comfort him. He has an intense desire to justify his actions, but doesn't get the chance. The image produced from Frank's memory fades. He sits on the ground staring at a place where his son had never been in reality.

Before he can get control of himself he's grabbed from behind and forcibly dragged away. He mutters unintelligible things under his breath. The guards take the keys he had managed to lift off of one the guards. They make the ground back to his cell quicker than he had moving away from it. They shut the cell door and lock Frank inside. Just on the other side of the cell door is Yosef. Frank places his face in between the bars. He reaches his left hand out of the cell, but just like always his son is just barely out of his grasp. The image produced from his subconscious is a side effect from Frank not getting enough sleep and the cruel living conditions of the world.

The morning arrives and the bags under Frank's forest green eyes are apparent. His brown hair is unkempt and he has stubble growing along his jawline. He looked crazy. Hell he probably was, but who wasn't these days? Frank's slumped against the wall staring off into space. Lost in distance memories of the few good times he had with his son. There's the quiet thudding of boots making their way across the tiled floor. They stop at Frank's cell. He doesn't bother fighting the guard instead he goes willing. He wonders who he was supposed to kill this time. He used to feel fear and regret but now feels nothing. It was like he was just doing a household chore and not taking someone's life.

The memory of his son follows after him. He clenches his jaw. If Yosef had been alive Frank probably would have tried harder to escape, but lately he wasn't seeing the point. There was nothing out there but death and clickers. Frank was beginning to think being a prisoner was a better deal than surviving on the outside. It guaranteed food and a place to sleep. He was even beginning to see the bandit's motives and it scared him. He was in the beginning stages of Stockholm Syndrome and he knew it. He needed to get away from all the chaos and killing before it was too late… but how? Ever fucking escape attempt ended in him being captured.

The guard pulls Frank into the cafeteria that Frank thinks of as the arena of death. His footfalls get lost in the noise of everyone talking all at once. Standing in front of him is a woman who in different times Frank would have liked to woe. She was beautiful with her naturally curly red hair and blue eyes. He hated the way her body shook in fear. He wanted to reach out and comfort her. To assure her everything was all right even though he knew differently. His son Yosef stands off to the side with his gorgeous green eyes that mirrored Frank's own. Frank's reminded of the promise to his son. He had told Yosef that he would do all he could to survive. He wasn't about to break that promise he had made on his sons deathbed.

The announcer lady silences the large mass of people, "Whose ready for some action?!"

Frank turns towards the crowd devoid of any children. That was unusual. Normally there were as many kids as adults. The announcer lady walks over to Frank and explains how the morning's events were going to be different than normal. She explains how Frank has to force himself on the woman or he'll be killed. Frank clenches his jaw. He was torn. Surely his son didn't want him to survive through such disturbing tactics. Killing was something entirely different than raping a defenseless woman or at least in Frank's mind it was.

Frank looks towards the frightened woman. She watches him with nothing short of hate in her features. It's apparent she thought he was one of the bandits. Frank bits the inside of his cheek. He feels as if hours have passed by even though it's just been moments. He makes his decision to turn towards his enemy and fight them. He grabs the announcer lady and wraps his thick arm around her neck. She gasps with shock. The crowd watches intrigued and not the least bit worried about Frank's victim.

Frank walks backwards as he uses the woman as his shield. He could make it this time he just knew he could. At first the guards just stare at him disbelievingly then they gain control of themselves and follow him careful to keep their distance. Frank has a fleeting sense of hope before the woman is shot down. He glances at the arrow in her chest. Shock crosses his features. She was bleeding profusely and whimpering loudly. He lets go and makes a run for it only to be intercepted by some guards on the other side of the compound.

Frank expects them to take him back to his prison cell. Instead they take back to the arena of death. He hears the pathetic cries coming from a woman. He watches as a man dominates her. He wants to lower his head to block the image out of his mind but the guard holding him forces him to look up. Frank watches as one article of clothing after another falls to the ground. It was sick and he feels angry. Why the fuck couldn't they just kill him already! Why were they keep him alive as opposed to making him one of the corpses hanging from the low ceiling in the first cell block he had stayed in?

Frank watches as the man relieves himself with the unwilling woman. When he finishes he gets off the woman and zips up his jeans. The red head woman is completely naked and exposed to the world. Every single part of her dignity is gone. Frank doesn't pay attention to her bare skin instead he looks at her terrified eyes. Her eyes reminded Frank of how his sons had looked as he bled to death. He fights the guards, but can't get free. He watches as the sick bastard who raped her takes out a revolver pistol with a smug grin before shooting the woman between the eyes. The crowd goes wild with excitement.

Frank stops moving and feels an ache in his chest. It was like losing his son all over again. Yet he couldn't help thinking that it wasn't much worse than what he had done for the bandits. He was starting to think that they aren't as bad as he once thought and it scared him. Why did morals have to be so pushed to the limit that they blurred and almost became nonexistent? The guards holding him lead him back to his cell. He let them take him away somewhat resigned. He needed to snap out of it. He needed to get away. The fucking bastards were getting inside his head and he was letting them. His son dances in front of him and crushing sadness comes over him. Frank feels as if he had failed that woman and the countless people he had been forced to kill just as much as he had his own son.

They reach Frank's cell. He walks in. Soon the same steel bars and three walls surround him. There was nothing he could use as weapon. The only thing in his cell was a rusted toilet, sink and the crusty mattress he was sitting on. His thoughts go to the door. Every attempt with using is to take on the guards had failed him. He may have been able to take a few but more guards always came running. There numbers seemed endless.

Frank slumps against the wall. He remembers how he had been captured by the bandits. It was late fall and he was checking his animal traps. He had stooped down to pull the rabbit from the steel clamp that was locked around its foot. The moment he did the back of his head was struck with some type of object. When he woke up his hands and feet were tied together around a metal bar. He was being carried by two men and had tried desperately to escape. He swung wildly trying to get them to drop him but his efforts failed him. They just kept walking as if nothing was happening. Frank had felt his stomach drop and his hope diminish.

They had brought him to the prison and loosened his bonds. They forced him to walk forward. He hadn't done so with a fight. More guards came and he lost. They made him slowly make his way through one cell block to another. In the one he stopped in there were corpses taking center stage in the room. He wondered if that was the fate that awaited him. He never would have guessed that his real fate was much, much worse. He shouldn't have believed the announcer lady's words that he would be freed if he killed that young man. It was a lie just like everything they told him. In the back of Frank's mind a little voice says that was some truth behind their actions. It tries to justify the operation going on here. Frank knew it was wrong but he found himself listening to that voice more and more every day.


	3. Seperated

Nena's running faster ever faster. The thundering footsteps of the blonde haired man are carried by the wind. The trees blur by as she searches the woods for an escape route. Nena loses her footing and is unable to do anything as her face makes contact with the snowy ground. Her pursuer catches up to her just as she's about to get up. He places his foot on Nena's neck effectively pinning her to the snow covered surface and cutting of her air supply. Nena punches the back of his knee as hard as she can and he crumbles to the ground beside her. She jumps up and goes for her knife. It's missing.

"Fuck," she breathlessly cries out as the man slams her into a tree.

The man shoves his forearm against Nena's throat pushing harder and harder every second. Nena desperately punches at his face forcing him to release her. He pulls out his knife and lunges towards her. Nena dodges it and disarms him. His eyes shift back and forth making Nena wonder if he was really all there. He lunges towards Nena and unthinkingly she shoves the knife through his eye socket. The knife comes out bloody as the once dangerous man falls to the cold floor. Blood spills out around him seeping into the white snow. Nena stands upright with a look of victory on her face. It disappears when she thinks of Dean, Grace, and Matthew. Nena didn't know whether they had made it out or not, but she hoped that they had. She takes off into the woods once again. If she remembered correctly her husband Matthew had escaped with their kids and then headed south.

Nena's thoughts jump to her little sister Tami. Nena had rushed forward and shoved her knife into the bastard's chest but by then it was too late. Tami was gone. All that was left of her was her corpse. The light had banished from her eyes and Nena realized she'd never hear another useless corny joke from her sister ever again. It had saddened her but she had forced herself to keep going. She still had others to fight for, besides giving up was for the weak.

The crunching of snow makes Nena turn around. Before she can do anything she's tackled to the floor. The knife she stole from the man silently falls to the ground besides her. Nena fights furiously against her attacker throwing punches right and left. Nothing fazes them and before she can try another tactic a second person jerks her to her feet. She soon finds herself being held in between two people. She struggles trying to get free, but it's useless. Her strength is nothing compared to theirs. They half carry half force her to walk forward. Her thoughts go to her husband and kids. _Please be safe._

They pass a seemingly endless amount of trees before coming to a stop. Up ahead is a massive building that Nena recognizes as a prison. Her eyes dart left and right trying to find an escape. All she sees are guards and more guards. For the first time in a long time she feels helpless. She chases down the feeling with incentive. She was going to get out of whatever the hell this place was and make it back to her family. There was no doubt about it. She ignores the small voice in the back of her head that tells her she's doomed. Nena wasn't the type to give up and she wasn't about to start now.

The men holding Nena lead her past two barbed wire fences and into the gloomy building. She looks around at the cells lining the walls. Images of torture fill her mind as she's lead through the hallway and into a cell block with mangled corpses hanging from the low ceiling. Her breath escapes her throat. Nena stops moving as the gruesome scene sinks in. She'd been captured by well-armed cannibals. She can't seem to pry her eyes off of the dangling meat. _Who the fuck would resort to eating other humans? Sick bastards that's who._

The bandits force her into an empty cell. They lock the door behind her. Nena finally breaks her eyes away from the corpses looming over her. She sits down and leans against the cement wall. The way she had come in seemed simple enough meaning she could find her way back out. The only problem was the guards they had spread out across the lawn and in the guard towers. She tried to think off all the possible ways to escape. She easily sees the flaw in them and lets out a frustrated sigh.

Nena should have seen the whole picture, but she hadn't just like Frank (her group's unofficial leader) and the rest of her group. She had been blind sighted by what the bandits had to offer. They were excellent fighters and any protection the group could get was greatly sought after. Still Nena mentally cursed herself out for not noticing the way the bandits had scoped the area. Nena had thought it was because they were paranoid from being in a new group. Boy had she been wrong. She should have been more careful, more paranoid, and more wary, but she had foolishly decided that she wasn't going to let what the world had turned into rule her life, some good that had done her.

Nena recalled the moment that the bandits disguised as fellow survivors had begun shooting up the place. It hadn't seemed like a crazed shooting at all. It was much, much more selective. The bandits had captured some people, shot others and chased after those lucky few who had gotten away. It was sick. Nena wondered what plans they had for her and the others. Either the bandits were keeping people alive so that they could have fresh meat or they were just messed up in the head and had no real reason for their actions. If it was none of the previously mentioned than the bandits were much more disturbed than Nena could have ever imagined.


End file.
